Ruin
by Innocently Not
Summary: The silence is driving me insane, and the sound of my own voice only makes the reality of my loneliness more prominent. Because, well, population: As far as I know anymore, one. State of the world: Heh, what world? It's all a ruin. Post-Apocalypse AU. Twoshot.


The silence is driving me insane, and the sound of my own voice only makes the reality of my loneliness more prominent. Because, well, population: As far as I know anymore, one. State of the world: Heh, what world? It's all a ruin. Post-Apocalypse AU. Twoshot.

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**Author: Innocently Not**

**Story Name: Ruin.**

**Status: Incomplete**

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When was the last time I saw him? I want to say two weeks, but I feel like the answer could as easily be two months. When had I stopped keeping track of the days I'd spent here? Where _is _'here'? Why am I here again?

Well, obviously the lack of choices led to this location. It's odd though, how I feel like I need to stay. Like somehow, if I stay in this spot, Wes will come back and tell me this was his sick version of hide-and-seek. Fuck, if I could be that lucky.

So the question comes up again, why am I here? Should I go nomad and find somewhere else to be? I swear, the lack of sound is doing shit to my head. I feel like... The silence is driving me insane, and the sound of my own voice only makes the reality of my loneliness more prominent. Because, well, population: As far as I know anymore, one. State of the world: Heh, what world? It's all a ruin.

How did I manage to survive? When did my thoughts start to become so fucked up and unsure?

This is pathetic, the way I'm thinking to myself like this. Like asking all these questions will get me any damn answers, anyway!

Shit shit _shit!_

I stand, finally fed up with the way my thoughts were betraying me. I'm not going to get answers sitting here in my brothers' little safehouse! Get the hell out there, Soul! Stop being such a fucking pansy!

I walk towards the sealed door, knowing what's left of the mansion lies behind it. I sigh, and pull my salvaged bandanna up to save my mouth and nose from the always-airborne dust waiting for me unavoidably.

Then I question why I would even think to leave the room which provides fresh oxygen to me. When my parents prepared this safe room, they provided at least a _years _worth of food and water for _eight people_, a room which is impenetrable from the outside, and a bed. A nice bed. A nice, queen-sized bed of gloriousness. What the hell am I complaining for? All the while everyone out _there _is dead!

My hand twitches slightly to remove the bandanna from my mouth, but I force myself to grab onto the vacuum-sealed door instead. I have to know what's out there. Find Wes and answers, maybe. How I'm going to do that however, is a mystery to me.

* * *

The door sighed loudly as the vault-like seal was broken with the help of the lock code. Soul peeked outside, and saw only the tunnel that lead to the house above him. He stepped out of the safe domain, and shut the door behind him. The door buzzed, telling him he would need to reenter the code to allow himself back in, but instead he walked away from the buzzing. His shoes tapped against the metal floor, and when he reached the end of the tunnel he was met with a ladder. Soul made sure the bandanna was positioned correctly on his face, and he climbed the slick metal easily. He forced the roof of the tunnel up, and it obediently moved causing the floor above him to shift.

Above ground, the floor had just opened up to reveal Soul's watchful gaze as he inspected the area around him carefully, making sure to capture every detail in his abused mind.

The first thing he noticed, was the bland color of the dust-coated grand hallway. The ugly beige tile was made uglier with the greenery crawling across it and up the walls. Soul finally pulled himself out of the hole, and shut the lid on the ground. It was amazing how hidden the passage was, considering the tile hid the lines in the floor extremely well.

Now, to explore. Soul walked down the hallway to the direction he knew his bedroom was. If he could save his MP3, his sanity just might be able to be salvaged considering he knew where the maids kept the endless supply of batteries. Anything electronic is pretty much useless if it has to be charged at this point, so his iPod was out of the question.

He continued the long walk down the hall and stopped at one of the last doors. This was it. What's left of his bedroom. He sighed, readying himself to witness the damage, and finally opened the doors to what used to be his one place of solitude.

Or, what still _is _his place of solitude... Or, hell, it at least looks the exact same! From the carpeted area with his bed, dresser, and phonograph to the area that split off into tile. That area, he didn't particularly care for unless no one else was in the house. He'd sometimes condemn the help to tend to the pristine lawn so he could enjoy this side of the room.

He walked, shutting his bedroom door behind him, and the shag carpet suddenly transformed to black-and red tile. The flat ceiling began to dome as this area of his room was nearly circular. On the walls were photos he didn't care about, but what lied in the middle of this space is what really mattered to him.

The grand piano.

_His _grand piano, to be exact. His hand glided over the fall, tempted to lift the barrier between him and the ivory keys. Long, slender fingers tapped on the wood, contemplating. That is, until he was interrupted.

From behind him, Soul heard his bedroom door open. He snapped his head up in horror, expecting to see a person or animal poised to maul him to death. Instead, he saw empty space. Confused, he listened and heard the unmistakable sound of shoes tapping frantically against tile.

His reaction was stupid. In Hollywood, it was always, _always_ brainless to _follow _the shit that terrified you! That's how the clueless blonde lesser important character gets murdered for crying out loud! But what does he do?

He follows it, of course.

Soul sprinted out of the room, and saw further down the hallway a trench coat flaying around. Hope swelled in him as he took off after it, and he realized that his person wasn't Wes. If it was him, he wouldn't run from him. Not to mention this person is a lot shorter than him, and looked to be a bit thinner from back there also. When Soul noticeably gained some ground on this person, he started to yell.

"Stop, please! What are you doing here!"

The sound caused the person to stumble, and they looked like they were contemplating on actually stopping. So, Soul prompted them further.

"I swear it! I'm not going to hurt you! You didn't do anything to me, that wouldn't be cool!"

The person looked behind, and seemed to trip over nothing. They rolled, and their trench flew up and over their head. Soul flinched slightly, and caught up to the fallen body. About a three feet away, he began to walk and take smaller steps.

Then, he gasped. The result of the trench being over their head, caused Soul to have a full-view on this person's wardrobe.

Combat boots, black with white buckles. Win. Thin, toned legs stuck out of a short plaid skirt which bunched up considerably. He stepped around, forcing that out of his view before he sprung a nose bleed.

Holy shit.

Holy _shit._

This was a girl.

A girl.

In front of him.

When he's had no human contact for weeks, possibly months.

Soul can't help but feel saved.

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I twitch.

How long have I been out?

I assess my body, and conclude that it doesn't feel too terribly sore. I couldn't have been in this position for long. I open my eyes, and am met with pitch-black darkness.

Oh gosh, did I accidentally somehow blind myself?!

With this thought, I sit up violently, thrashing slightly at the air. When the movement causes my trench coat to flip onto my back, I realize that it had been covering my eyes. Gosh, who knew panic could make someone, even me, so irrational at times.

Then I remember, my pursuer. How his odd choice of words had thrown me off, and caused me to trip. I look around cautiously, and directly to the left of my face about a foot away I was met with a leg. It was clothed in a dark blue jean, and I looked up to see he was wearing a oddly clean and crisp red shirt. I flinch away from him, but he dropped to one knee to meet me face-to face.

I'm going to admit, I gasped at this boy's face. Every feature was so... So _lovely. Everything _about his appearance demanded attention, but I refuse to give him mine positively. I flinched away again, and he pulled the bandanna down to reveal a scowl.

"Names' Soul."

I didn't know how to respond, so I settled for a cocked eyebrow.

He scoffed a bit at that, "As in, Soul _Eater. _Soul _Evans. _Soul _Eaterfuckin'Evans_!"

None if it sounded familiar to me, as much as I would have liked it to. Any amount of familiarity would be nice to me right now.

I shrugged, uninterested. He sighed, and kept speaking, "So you've been the one keeping my room from crumbling like the rest of the house, huh? How long you been in there? Two weeks? Three? Four?"

I nodded.

"What... four?"

I shook my head.

"Three?"

I nodded.

"What, do you not talk or something?"

I rolled my eyes, "I talk. Just don't see the point in using my words up when gestures work just as well. You ass."

I was surprised to see him smirk at my last comment, and I gasped again. His _teeth. _They looked so sharp! I wonder if evolution got a hold of him during... Well, everything.

He saw me stare, "Believe it or not, I was born this way. Don't question it. Accept it. You'll learn to love it."

"What makes you think I'm sticking around here anymore?" I spat.

His playful smirk disappeared, "I thought... Since.."

He didn't finish the sentence off, but it was evident what he wanted to say. As far as we know, we're the last two people on the world. So we might as well stick together, right?

Wrong.

So wrong.

Apparently this kid didn't suffer through what I had to that time I was alone, left fighting off everything that tried to attack me, people and animals alike. It's hard to trust people out here.

Maybe. Maybe it could work. But I'm not convinced yet.

He sighed, visibly losing any signs of hope within him. I was shocked when he turned on his heel and started to walk the opposite direction.

"Hey, wait!"

He paused and looked over his shoulder.

"So, you're just going to leave? Just like that?"

He did a half-smile, keeping his teeth hidden behind his lips in the process, "Ain't no one telling you that you can't come along."

He shrugged and continued to walk. I awkwardly fell into step behind him, leering at him when his face displayed obvious triumph.

"My name is Maka. Just by the way." He made a noise of recognition and we then walked silently until we approached the room I have been calling home for these past few weeks. He immediately walked over to the little table next to his massive bed and retrieved a small MP3 player from it. I lacked understanding, but didn't question it.

He shoved the small device in his pocket, and didn't remove his hand from the cavern. After a few moments he shoved his other hand in his empty front pocket and spoke clearly.

"D'you wanna' see somethin' pretty cool?"

I couldn't help but smile and nod my head, and he immediately responded by walking over to my favorite part of this room. The part where it transforms into something much more dark and real with the radiant instrument occupying most of the space.

Without removing his hands, he steps over the piano bench and sits himself down. His hands remained hidden in the caverns of his pants, and he stared at the covered piano keys for a long time. Finally, he turned to look back at me. I smiled awkwardly, and he returned the expression without delay.

He freed his hands and lifted the thing that went over the keys. He took a moment to crack his knuckles, and the second his fingers glided over each note that was going to potentially be pressed, I knew.

I didn't want to leave this boy behind.

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**[A/N] Ah, hello! I'm not sure if you like this or not, but it was an idea that I had, and I guess I word vomited a bunch of shit together. Like most of my writing, (poems and stories alike) this stuff never works out on paper as well as it does in my head. Oh well. Hopefully you can try to enjoy it anyways.  
Yes, I am new to fanfiction .  
No, I haven't written a story yet.  
Yes, this is my first story.  
And no, I'm not going to beg you for reviews. That shit's annoying to me, when authors whine like that at the end of a chapter. *Cough cough, my best friend It Is Only Me*  
Haha, I kid. That girl knows how to write a damn good Soul Eater/Fruits Basket crossover (A Soul in a Fruits Basket). I shouldn't pick fun. c:  
Anyway, review if you feel you need to. Second chapter should be out soon. Make my day, write something creative and awesome. Shit, it doesn't even have to be about this shitty ass story. xD  
Follow me on Tumblr! ThePseudonymousOnes  
Like my facebook page! ****Innocently Not**

**Other than that? Have a nice day. Second chapter to come soon. **


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